Dream House
by GaiaAir
Summary: Just a postep story to 'Strange Bedfellows.' First fan fic. Reela. Neela POV. Please R&R.Disclaimer: I don't own ER or any of it's characters.


"Y'know I've been looking for this, for like, a month?"

"I know—I rather like sleeping in it." Neela didn't feel right. She felt lightheaded—it was as if blood was being drained from her head, perhaps because of her proximity to Ray—and at the same time blood was racing to color her cheeks with embarrassment over what she had just said. It was an odd and unwanted sensation. But one of many, when it came to being around Ray.

She felt Ray's breath tickling her forehead and she wanted to lean in, to feel his breath caressing her lips instead. But her comatose mind finally kicked in and instead, she muttered meaningless words, turned, and left, lugging the impossibly heavy bag behind her.

* * *

She was in turmoil, a concept becoming more and more familiar with each passing day. She had seen the entreaty in Ray's eyes as he tried to assure himself that her moving out was all for the best. It had not strengthened or weakened her resolve. It had merely confused her. It was obvious what Ray wanted. But what about her? Did she have the courage to be honest with herself? Ray wanted his 'Roomie' back. And she had enjoyed being his roomie. So why now? Because her feelings had changed? Because she had wanted to steal a kiss a few minutes ago? But she had always heard that it was normal to want things you couldn't have, married or not. According to Mrs. Gallant, you should put your needs first. Was Ray a need? That couldn't be possible. Could it?

"Neela! Can you hold on for one second, please?" Ray's running figure appeared from the lobby of the apartment building.

All Neela could think about was finding the door handle but Ray stopped her. He turned her around and Neela looked up into Ray's face. She had never seen such naked longing. Never on Michael's and she doubted it had ever been on her own. It left her breathless.

And all her questions left her. She watched Ray's fidgeting figure and he finally spoke: "I wish I didn't feel this way but you—you're the best friend I've ever had."

Neela remained still. Unexpectedly, Neela felt a deep, burning anger waking, like a slumbering monster, in the pit of her stomach.

"I want you to keep this." Ray said sincerely, thrusting her trusty night-shirt towards her.

But the anger was all consuming and Neela needed to escape the static electricity crackling between them. An energy that only seemed to fuel her anger. She quickly turned, opened the taxi door and slid in. This toe-curling anger frightened her. She had never felt such a strong feeling before. Not even when she was exchanging wedding vows and her love with Michael. She felt as if she was racing around in her own mind clawing for freedom. It was driving her mad. In the midst of all this, she felt her heart give a funny flop and she turned in the backseat in time to see Ray turn around to face the fleeing cab.

And suddenly she knew why she was angry. The terrible rage brewing within her was directed at the one person she had unfailingly protected the past few months from his own misdemeanors.

She was angry with Ray. She was angry with him because he had begun to care too much for her. She was angry with him because he had shown her and her alone, his vulnerabilities. She was angry with him because he forced her to shrug away her worries.

She was angry with him because he had been there instead of Michael. She was angry with him for showing her how meaningless her bond of marriage was. She was angry with him because his timing had been all wrong. But what made her angry most of all, was that despite all that, he had created a home with her, furnished with all the special moments that make home the haven from life's hell.

Neela glanced down at her hand and was surprised to see it wet. Putting her palms against her cheeks she realized she was crying. And then she began to cry in earnest, her anger turning to grief, devouring the adrenaline that had been coursing through her moments ago.

And in the madness of her tears and anguish, she saw a single moment of clarity: Deep in her heart of hearts, she knew that the shirt would find it's way back to her. Just as she would find her way back to Ray.


End file.
